Poetry by Ron Pickett

Courtesy: Creative Commons
Bodies strewn about the gym floor – 14, 15, 16! Nancy carries on.
I’ve seen bodies falling lately.
Not from great heights, simply disappearing from my field of view.
Missing the chair seat, losing the tenuous balance required to stand up
A little hazy, dizzy, vertigo.
Then the gathering, the collection of those nearest to the fallen person.
To help, to see, to be a part of the action – the crowd.
“911, call 911!”
“Call the front desk, call the Care Center.”
“Did he hit his head?”
“Wow that was loud.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Can he stand up?”
“Leave him alone.”
“The EMT will be here soon.”
“Why did it take so long to give the information to 911?”
I’ve seen bodies falling lately.
Old bodies, not limber pliable resilient bodies.
Tipping over backward is the worst – the back of the head impacts the floor.
Concrete is worse, wood not so bad, carpet is best.
Still, it is an aged, shrunken brain in a rigid skull.
A hip is bruised, damaged, cracked.
Recovery time is measured in months - if ever.
The hospital, rehab, have their own horrors.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital.
They will want to keep me overnight!
I’ve got things to do tomorrow!
I’m not going!”
I've seen bodies falling lately.
I check my balance, shift from side to side.  Feels OKAY I test the horizon; should I sit down?
I bend my knees, I flex, I’m feeling stable, strong, good.
What can I do for him?
What can I do for myself? Let’s get physical, get personal.
Stay strong, stretch, add muscle, do squats, get up from the chair, sit down in the chair, Repeat! Repeat.
Remember the sound of a body impacting the floor -- concrete, wood, carpet.
Stretch, balance, squat, squat, squat.

Ron Pickett is a retired naval aviator with over 250 combat missions and 500 carrier landings. His 90-plus articles have appeared in numerous publications. He enjoys writing fiction and has published five books: Perfect Crimes – I Got Away with It, Discovering Roots, Getting Published, EMPATHS, and Sixty Odd Short Stories.



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